Enough To Be On My Way
by Kadi219
Summary: Sharon/Jack - A story about breaking up, and all the pain and unanswered questions that go along with it. Mild spoilers for all of season 3 up to episode 10. Very vague mention of Shandy. This one is primarily about Sharon, Jack, and the divorce.


Enough To Be On My Way

by Kadi

Rated K+

Disclaimer: The sandbox isn't mine, but I sure do like playing in it!

**A/N:** This was prompted by a discussion in the Major Crimes fan group over on Facebook. I found that I much agreed with another user's comments on the nature of Sharon's feelings about the divorce and Jack. This is the result.

This is most decidedly Sharon and Jack, the Shandy feels are very, very vague and hardly there at all. This is a story about breaking up, and all the pain and questions that go along with it.

* * *

Twice Sharon Raydor got back into her car. She sat for half an hour debating whether or not she was actually going to go _inside. _This meeting had haunted her for days. Or perhaps it was more the reason behind it. On the third time she left her car, she approached the restaurant only to linger outside. She was not typically prone to such indecision, but by going inside, she knew that she was accepting the inevitable. It wasn't made easier by the fact that this was a situation she had started. Jack wanted to meet with her. If they were going to go through with the divorce, he wanted her to sit down with him just one time and discuss, like rational adults, the dissolution of their thirty-year marriage.

It was somewhat ridiculous coming from him, or so she tried to tell herself. In the end, she supposed that by passing everything through their lawyers she was taking the easy way out. Not that there was anything easy at all about the end of a marriage. Sharon realized that it might be hard for others to understand, but finally closing the door on that chapter of her life was not made easier by the twenty years of separation preceding it. Somehow, it seemed that much harder.

Jack had proven, time and again, that he was not someone to be counted on. He was not going to change; he would never be the man that she married. Or that she believed that she married. Maybe that was her fault. Sharon knew that she was not without faults in all of this. She was more than certain that she could have tried harder, worked harder, given more.

There was a time when they could finish each others sentences. She knew what Jack was thinking before he ever put voice to it. Then, slowly, her attention began to shift. She became ambitious, she felt a need to prove herself, to make her mark in her career. Even before Emily was born, she felt a drive that carried her through the next twenty of her career with the LAPD. There was also the children, of course. First Emily, so unexpected, but no less wanted. Sharon could still recall the stupor with which Jack greeted her when she told him that news.

Sharon sat on a bench outside the small, but trendy restaurant that Jack had chosen as their meeting place. She tipped her face toward the darkening sky and closed her eyes against the sting of tears. There were moments forever emblazoned upon her mind's eye. The bafflement which had given way to the most beautiful smile she had ever seen was one of them. It was so hard now to reconcile the neglectful, absent father that he became with the thrilled, if startled young man that he was.

Then had come Ricky. She could recall Jack laughing, because they had discussed having another child, and they'd both wanted to wait. "_You know, I don__'__t know if we__'__re doing it wrong, or doing it right. Maybe we should stop _not_ trying_." A bittersweet smile touched her lips. With Emily, she knew that he'd wanted a son so badly, but he had immediately loved his princess. Ricky, it was as though he was walking on clouds.

When had that changed? Why had she not seen it. How could something so beautiful, so seemingly solid, shatter so quickly?

It didn't happen overnight. Of that Sharon was more than aware. They had their problems, even before Jack left. She foolishly thought they were working through them, or maybe that was another fault that was all hers. Had she blindly thought that just because she told Jack to stop drinking, and stop gambling, that it would just happen?

Yes, there was the drinking. By the time Ricky was two years old her husband was staying out all night. That was a rough year for them. Jack had failed his first attempt at the Bar Exam, and he was taking that failure hard. Was she not supportive enough? Perhaps she was too focused on the children and her own job to provide the support system that he needed. Sharon supposed that she would never know now.

It was much too late for these regrets, but then, these thoughts were not new.

Sharon had married her best friend, the man waiting for her inside the restaurant was someone that she barely tolerated on a good day. This divorce was a long time in coming, but it was still piercing a hole right through her. Sharon bowed her head and allowed the thick curtain of her hair to hide her face while she quickly swept at the tears which had leaked past her resolve. She thought she'd cried all her tears for Jack and her marriage long ago. It seemed that she was wrong.

She threw a thin, shuddering breath and let it out slowly. Sharon lifted her head and glanced toward the entrance. She could sit here all night, but it would only delay what needed to be done. It wouldn't alter the result. This marriage was going to end. There was nothing holding them together any longer. Sharon couldn't even recall the last time she actually believed herself in love with him. But love him she had, and love him she still did, but it had faded. It was only a passing emotion, a sense of caring and acknowledgement for the man she once knew; for the father of her children. She would always care for him. That could never change. The bad memories might outnumber the good, but it couldn't outweigh them. Not completely.

After only another moment, Sharon finally gathered the steel facade with which she normally dealt with Jack and pulled it around herself, much like a blanket, shielding her from the cold and bitter disappointment of her failed marriage. She rose from the bench and swept a hand down the front of her jacket and skirt, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles. Black, both of them, with the purple blouse beneath that she had been favoring a lot lately. Sharon shook her hair back and lifted her chin, while she drew her purse over her shoulder. She inhaled, once more, and then strode toward the entrance. In the reflection of the glass door, she checked her face for signs of her tears before sweeping inside.

Sharon spotted Jack before she could even gain the attention of the maitre'd, and waved the young woman off when she did finally approach. She strode toward him, her stride quick and clipped. He spotted her when she neared, and for a moment there was a sadness in his gaze that almost tugged at her steel facade. Then just as quickly as it was there, it was gone, and she greeted him with a cool smile instead.

"Sharon." He stood when she reached the table, and sighed when she waved him off as he rounded it to help her into her chair. Still so damned independent. Jack shook his head, and waited as she slipped out of her jacket and folded herself, gracefully, into the seat opposite his. His gaze swept over her, and deny it though he knew she would, there was a brightness to her eyes that even Sharon couldn't fully mask behind her cool disregard for him. "You look good," he said instead, and when she simply tilted her head at him and raised a single brow, Jack sighed again.

There was a time when she would have blushed, when her eyes would have sparkled even as she rolled them at him. She'd have disagreed, but would be secretly pleased. She'd have tugged a lock of hair behind her ear and drawn her bottom lip between her teeth. Jack used to marvel that she didn't seem to know, or believe, just how beautiful she was. He used to marvel at everything about her. Her quick wit, that sharp mind and even sharper tongue. He loved the sound of her laugh most of all, but how long had it been since he'd heard that?

Jack could still recall just how she'd look, head thrown back, eyes alight with happiness and her face flushed with mirth as she laughed until she cried. Those were very old memories, however, of much happier times. Before the disappointment and the arguments. Before the hurt in her gaze replaced the simple joy.

He looked down and toyed with the cutlery on the table in front of him. "Come on, Sharon. I thought we were going to talk." Jack looked up at her again, set his jaw stubbornly.

Sharon clasped her hands in her lap and continued to stare impassively back at him. "Yes. That is why you asked me here. To talk. About the divorce," she stated at length, stressing the last. "I believe the papers were very straight forward. I'm not asking for anything." She wasn't offering him anything either. It was simple, no contest, they left the marriage with their possessions and finances as they existed currently.

Jack sighed again. His teeth ground together. She could be frustratingly stubborn, that was something that hadn't changed. "So we're really going to do this?" He squinted at her. "Thirty years, just gone." He waved a hand, as though sweeping aside all the years which lay behind them.

"More like eight," Sharon countered. "That is when you left, as I remember it," she pointed out, without much pleasure. Why he insisted on protesting what needed to happen, she would never understand. Her head tilted, and it was the bitterness which spurred her on. Which made her go for the hurt. Sharon really hated that it had come to this. "You did come back a few times, but never for very long, so yes. I'm going to go with that. Eight years of marriage. The rest," she shrugged, her lips pursed briefly and she offered him a quiet hum. "I'm not really sure what we would call it. Intermission before the final act, maybe."

Cold. She had gotten cold after he left her, Jack knew that was his doing. The woman he married would never speak of their marriage with such indifference. "I don't know," he replied. "I like to call it working on our differences." When she laughed, it was hollow sounding. Not as he remembered it. Jack gripped the edge of the table. "That's amusing to you?"

"Well, yes…" Sharon fought the urge to fold her arms across her chest. "The only thing you worked on during that time was your poker game. Jack, this is really unnecessary. It's over, it has been over." Sharon sighed quietly. "Sign the papers. There really is no reason to rehash everything."

"I think there is," he shot back, irritated with her now. Jack leaned forward against the table, pitched his voice lower. "If you're just going to throw away our family, I think it deserves a lot of damned rehashing." Her eyes flashed, and he knew that he'd hit a nerve. Jack leaned back again, feeling almost smug at that. The first crack in the ice.

"_We_ don't have a family, Jack." Sharon gave up and let her arms cross against her chest. She leaned forward, voice dropping an octave. "_I_ have a family. Myself and three children, two of whom you walked out on and barely acknowledge exist. Don't pretend you didn't see this coming. You wanted out, I'm giving you the out. Take it."

"I'm not the one filing for divorce," he hissed back at her. "How can you call that wanting out?" He waved off the waiter when he approached, neither of them ready to even think about a menu.

"Simple, you left." Sharon clenched her jaw and drew a slow breath. She shook her head. "I'm not going to argue with you. If that's why you called me here, then I'm sorry. We're not debating this. It's happening, now or by default in six months, the papers are filed. Do yourself a favor and at least walk out with some dignity this time." Sharon stood. She reached for her purse and jacket. "You know how to reach me, and you have my lawyer's number."

"Dammit. _Sharon_." Jack rose as she strode away from him. He hesitated for only a moment before he followed her. With his slightly longer stride he caught up to her easily, before she could leave the building. His hand circled her upper arm and he steered her down a narrow hallway at the front of the restaurant, toward the restrooms. There were, as was becoming the trend, three. A mens, a ladies, and a unisex family room between the two. He drew her into the middle room. "You always have to have the last word don't you?"

"Let _go_." Sharon jerked her arm out of his grip and glared at him. Her eyes flashed, a brighter shade of green in her annoyance. "At what point in all the time that you've known me have I ever given you the indication that manhandling me will help your cause?" She shook her hair back and narrowed her eyes at him. "Move aside." He managed to position himself between her and the door. Being trapped in a small space wasn't her idea of fun to begin with, but to be trapped with Jack, was only managing to irritate her further.

"Not this time." Jack stood straighter. "I'm not going to buy it, not this time, Sharon. Twenty years you were more than happy to keep the status quo, and you might want me to believe you didn't file for divorce sooner because of your _career ambitions_," he made air quotes, "but I'm not biting. I know you better than that. We've been married for thirty years, you're not just walking away on a whim. So why now? What changed, Sharon. Why, all of a sudden, are you hell bent on signing on the dotted line." There had to be more to that story, and try as he might, Jack couldn't quite nail it down.

"Why not?" Sharon crossed her arms again. She continue to glare at him. "What reason could I possibly have to save something that no longer exists, Jack. It hasn't for a very long time. Now, or twenty years ago, it doesn't matter. It's still over. The opportunity you had for debating this flew out the window way back then."

"You never talked about divorce before," Jack argued. "Or I might have. Hell, Sharon. This is not something we can just take back."

Bitter laughter escaped her. "_You_ left. _You_ walked out on me, not the other way around. _That _is something that you can't just take back." Try though she did, she couldn't hold back the irritated flood of bitterness that pushed at her steely resolve. Sharon looked away from him. Her jaw clenched. The words were there, on the tip of her tongue. Her eyes closed. "Did you honestly think that you could just waltz in and out of our lives and I'd be waiting to take you back on the occasions that you happened to remember that you _had_ a family?" Her voice hitched and that only made her glare harder. How she loathed him for forcing this argument. She didn't want to feel the anger, or the hurt, she just wanted to pack it away and move on with her life.

"You know," He gestured, his frustration growing. "I if I thought I could stay, I would have, but—"

"_What_?" Her eyes flashed. "But _what_, Jack? _If_? I never asked you to leave. That was a decision that you made, on your own, I might add. _My God_," She she shifted her foot from one foot to the other and looked away from him. "What were you even _thinking_? _Why? _For crying out loud, Jack, _why_?" Sharon realized then, that was something she never asked him before. She pulled herself back together, she took care of her children, and she moved ahead in a career that she made for herself. She built walls around herself and never looked beyond them.

"Ah hell…" He swept a hand into his hair. Jack watched her eyes glisten and looked away. He could take almost anything, and heaven only knew he liked to push until she snapped. This was not what he was expecting. "Sharon." Jack sighed. He didn't even know if he could give voice to all the reasons that he thought leaving was a good idea at the time. Then suddenly he was gone, and it was just easier to stay gone than to go back.

She took his silence as answer enough. "Right." Sharon pushed past him and reached for the door. "That's what I thought."

"Like hell." He caught her before she could open the door. He pulled her back against him and was painfully aware of how rigid she went, despite the fact that his hands were only holding her arms, and loosely at that. "Dammit, Sharon. How can you understand it when I barely do myself." Jack turned his face into her hair. He used to love her hair, and how she wore it in thicker, tumbling waves. "I couldn't stay," He said quietly, and felt the first tremor run through her. "I was drowning, and I was only going to pull you and the kids down with me. You didn't need that. You were on your way up. Everyone could see it."

Her eyes closed, but moisture leaked past, to slide slowly, painfully down her cheeks. Her body ached with the effort to remain still, motionless against him, but the pain of his admission trembled through her. "That wasn't your decision to make," she whispered. It was simply too much, and what began as just a few tears was quickly trying to become a torrent. "I'd have gone down with you," she admitted, a bit brokenly.

The air left his lungs on a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Jack's arm snaked around her. He felt the shudder run through her and pressed his face into the crook of her neck. "I know." It was why he left. There was a time when she had loved him. But other things became more important. As much as he'd wanted her, he wanted the alcohol and the gambling more. Until it drew him away. Then every time he felt he had a handle on it, he just couldn't face what he had broken.

Her arm covered his, her nails bit into his wrist where she gripped it. From her other arm, her purse slipped and landed with a dull thud at their feet. "I needed you. _We_ needed you." Sharon shook her head. She didn't want to feel this grief anymore. She thought she was long past it. It seemed she was wrong. Filing for the divorce had only opened the old wounds. When he turned her, she let him. His hands moved into her hair, while hers circled his wrists. "We can't go back," she said quietly. "It's much too late. Just let me go." She held on out of hope, all those years, but it faded with the love that had created it. "Please."

Jack lowered his forehead until it rested against hers. "I love you." His thumbs swept the dampness from her cheeks. Yes, they were broken, he knew. But he was finding it harder to walk away this time.

"But I don't," she whispered, and the admission cost her. "I'm not that girl anymore. You couldn't change, Jack, and I did." She raised their children alone, while waiting for him to come back to her, and slowly realized that he never would. He disappointed them all, time and again, and Sharon was reminded, those disappointments weren't only limited to their past. Only weeks ago he'd tried to come at her through Rusty. He tried to come at her through Ricky, by playing on his worries about Rusty. That was something that she simply could not forgive.

"So that's it?" He asked again. Jack lifted his head. She was still watching him, but there was resignation buried in the hurt. "It's done then. There's no chance at all."

"No." She drew another breath and let it out slowly. "Not anymore. Once, maybe, but not for a long time. We need to move on. It really is time." Sharon let her hands fall away from him, and stepped back when his dropped as well. Hers lifted to her face and she smoothed away the tears that remained.

"Rumor has it you already have." Jack sighed, he shook his head and looked away. He really didn't want to know. The kid hadn't seemed to think Sharon had anything else going on, and there were just some things that Rusty couldn't lie about, no matter how street-wise he was.

Sharon rolled her eyes at him. "Yes, Rusty mentioned as much." She pushed her hair back and sighed. "Jack…" There were no _rumors,_ of that she was very certain. Where he got the idea that she was dating, Sharon didn't know. Likely, he was fishing.

"Don't." Jack waved a hand at her. "I won't make you lie about it. But you know, I still have some friends in this town and you've been seen, Sharon. I just…" He swore and sighed again. He really _did not_ want to know, but it was much like driving past a car accident. You couldn't stop yourself from looking, even when you knew that you shouldn't. "Do you love him?"

The question took her by surprise. "I…" Her eyes widened and she shook her head. "I'm really not…" He rolled his eyes at her and she recalled his animosity toward a certain member of her squad recently. Sharon realized who she must have been seen with. "We're friends," she stated easily. "That's all." She shrugged, and bent to retrieve her purse.

"Friends." Then why wouldn't she look at him. "_Sharon_." Jack stared blandly back at her.

"_Jack_." She drew her purse onto her shoulder again. "Yes, friends. Honestly, if it were more than that, it wouldn't be any of your business, but it's not." That it could be, went unsaid. It wasn't something she was ready to admit just yet. That she looked forward to those weekly dinners. That he made her laugh, and she was comfortable with him in a way that she probably shouldn't be. It was… complicated.

The way her gaze drifted, the thoughtful expression that crossed her face, if only for a moment, told him all he needed to know. Friends, perhaps, but only for now. Maybe they weren't there now, Jack thought, but she was thinking about it. Still, he really didn't want to know. "I guess that's it then." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "Nothing else to say."

"That's it," Sharon agreed. The final door was closed. Painful though it might be. Maybe now the healing could actually start. When he stepped toward her, she moved back. It was instinctual. She didn't trust herself if he touched her again. Her resolve had slipped enough for one night. When he only reached for the door, Sharon exhaled quietly.

"I'll courier the papers over," Jack said. "Your lawyer will get them tomorrow." For just a moment longer, he studied her, then he turned his gaze to the door. "Sixty days and it's done."

"Yes," she said quietly. She knew the drill, she had gone over it with her lawyer, and honestly it wasn't the first time she considered divorce. It was just the first time she had the courage to actually do it.

"Alright," he nodded once. "I guess all that's left is goodbye."

"Hm." She hummed quietly. Sharon tilted her head at him. He could still be so very clueless, even after all these years. "Jack, we still share children. If you'd call them more often, you might find that goodbye isn't exactly as permanent as it seems." There would be moments when they would be thrust together, for the sake of their children. If he'd put forth more effort, that was.

"Yeah." Jack fought the urge to roll his eyes. He knew she was right, but it was an old argument. Not one that he figured either of them felt up to having at the moment. "I guess we'll see," he said instead.

"Yes," she replied, resigned to the fact that there were many things she just couldn't fix. Her marriage was one, but his relationship with their children was the other. It was time she stopped trying. Another door would need to close. Her babies knew that they were loved, so in the end, it was Jack that she pitied. Sharon stepped further from the door as it opened. Her eyes followed him as he left, and then tracked it's movement as it slowly closed behind him. Walking away from her, she thought sadly, that was something he was rather good at. Even now, he didn't look back. He never had.

Sharon took a moment to let the sudden silence of the room settle around her. Then she walked to the sink, and the mirror over it to see how bad the damage to her makeup was. With a sigh, she ran her fingers beneath her puffy, reddened eyes. She wondered why movies made crying seem like such a simple thing. It was hardly glamorous. She shook her head and set her purse on the small vanity and began pulling out what she would need to make herself presentable enough to leave the restaurant and drive home. She didn't want Rusty to know that she'd been crying, and hopefully by the time she was home most of the puffy, blotchy, ugliness would be gone.

It took fifteen minutes to repair the damage to her face. It was such a funny thing… how easily she could hide away the evidence of a broken heart with just a few flicks of a makeup brush. If only repairing the actual damage was that easy.

It was broken. Filing for divorce had chipped away at her, taken a piece of her that was buried but not gone completely. She might not be in love with him anymore, but there was a time when she had loved that man to distraction. She chose to build a life with him. They made children together. He might have left, but she was ripping the last of it away. It hurt, more than she anticipated.

Sharon drew away from the mirror when there was little more that she could do to fix her face. She packed everything away again. Then she closed her eyes and drew a breath. She let it out slowly and finally slipped out of the small restroom. As she walked down the hall, she felt some of the weight leaving her shoulders. Painful as it was, she could finally be free. To live, or love, or simply be. It didn't matter, the possibility was there.

She might not be ready to grasp it just yet, but knowing it existed… that was enough. Enough that, like Jack, she could finally be on her way.

~_FIN_


End file.
